Like countless pebbles on a shore

I carry shadows of a lore

Of worse and praise of mocking sight

And spirits haunting through the night

But now awakend I behold

I’m shaking off the winter cold

Love for content of words I strive

That’s an artificers food of life

A feast of rotten mind decay

The worm renews from day to day

While TV shows and press release

Keep souls of mass sleeping at ease

Art thou real art or ignorance

Which in small portions to dispense

Real Muse alone will cease the day

In gracious style and find a way

The worlds a poet does invent

Kills the polemic argument.


Written by: Anja Jaenicke,Jaenicke, Nov. 16. 2016

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